Late Night
by InvisiblePuppeteer
Summary: Derek comes home to his girl and his dog. A cute little oneshot about coming home after a late night. Not much substance-just a bit of fluff.


Derek Morgan was late. Not that he was late on purpose, of course. The case they were working lead them on a not-so-merry chase and the Unsub took a shot at both him and Reid. The kid was fine, seeing as the Unsub missed by a mile and a half, but he had taken a bullet to the chest.

All Derek could say was thank god for Kevlar. He was bruised and sore, but otherwise unharmed.

"Hey, Derek," Emily called. "Garcia and Reid and I are going out for a drink. Wanna join?" she invited.

"Nah, you guys are crazy. It's two in the morning," he gathered up his things, tossing his go bag over his shoulder.

Garcia paused as she walked into the room, her pink heels clacking against the floor of the bull pen, "That's never stopped you before, Chocolate Love." She looked at him curiously. He smirked at her and quirked an eyebrow and a look of understanding dawned on Penelope's face. "Oh… Oh!" she pushed her hair back, "Get going! How dare you be late!" she teased.

His only reaction to her was a quick roll of the eyes before he set a pace faster than normal and he exited the BAU.

Emily and Reid shared a confused look before Emily pinned Garcia down with a stare. "What do you know?"

"Oh, a little of this and a little of that."  
"Spill. Now."

Garcia couldn't hold back her smile any longer. A bright smile broke through and illuminated the area. "So, a few months ago, Derek met this girl in a library, of all places…"

Even though he sped part of the way home, by the time Derek had gotten home it was well passed two in the morning. He knew that she would have been waiting up for him—she had done so the past few times as well. Derek had told her multiple times not to wait up for him—he knew she usually woke up before the sun and it wasn't fair to her to have to wait up at all hours—but she insisted. The first time she had waited up for him, he had been surprise that she awake at all. But there she was—her golden honey hair obscuring her face as she poured over a book, two cups and a few sandwiches laid on the counter next to her, waiting for him. The second time, he'd returned home and neither she nor Clooney were around. He'd almost panicked when no one returned for at least an hour. He was just about to grab his cell phone when he heard a key slide into the lock of his front door. Clooney had lunged through the door and jumped on him, while the poor girl attached to the other end of the leash was forced to let go as she stumbled. When she saw him, Derek watched as her face lit up. "Welcome home," she'd greeted.

He couldn't wait to see her. She was effervescent and he found himself falling deeply in love with her very quickly. It wasn't long before she expressed the same affection for him and they began in an honest relationship.

Derek slipped his key in the lock, excited to see his girl and his dog.  
"Hello?" He called out softly as he stepped into the inside of his apartment. He smirked, thinking that perhaps she was engrossed in a book. He could almost mock himself—he'd fallen in love with the one woman who could be best friends with Reid, if given half a chance. The last time she was late for a date, he'd called from the diner and she'd missed the call. It was about three minutes later when she called back, her voice distant. "You called?"

"Hey, darlin'. You on your way?"

"Way? Way where?" she'd asked.

He signed, "Our date…?" he questioned.

There was silence on the other side and then a large 'thunk'. "Oh, oh, bloody hell!" She cursed. "Derek. Oh, I am so sorry. I'll be there in just a few min—ouch!—a few minutes."

The line went dead and she had shown up for their date, harried and panting, an apology on her lips.

As Derek dropped his bag by the front door, he padded softly towards the living room. "Hello? Sweetheart? Clooney?" he called. As he stepped into the living room, he understood why no one had responded.

There on his couch was his girl and his dog, in an almost picture perfect scene. She was resting on her side with one arm under her head and the other tossed across her stomach. Her breaths were deep and even and Derek smiled when he realized why Clooney hadn't bounded over to greet him. His dog was cuddled up to his girl. The dog's head draped over her neck, as if protecting her while she slept. On the coffee table sat two cups. One was practically empty with the dredges of tea pooled in the bottom and the other cup was filled with lukewarm coffee, both on coasters that Derek hadn't known he owned.  
"Good dog," Derek praised quietly, a soft smile quirked on his lips. It was truly heart melting—not that he would ever tell anyone.

He kneeled beside the couch, wincing at the pain that blossomed back up near where the bullet had impacted. Derek brushed some of her hair out of her face, "Hermione. Hey, baby girl, wake up."


End file.
